All The Shades Of Beauty
by Sara Darkotter
Summary: Story written during NaNoWriMo-undergoing major editing
1. The Shades

__That's three fics done in less than two weeks! I am on a roll!

The alternative title to this story is _All The Shades of Love_. You'll see why.

Anyway, this is part of the Snowflakes series. For those of you who don't want to go read two 6000+ word one-shots, let me reiterate: (And bare with me)

Maggie, age nine. Two years after _Changes_. Her class goes on a camping trip in November (Crazy teacher, don't ask). They're attacked by Black Court vampires. The students are terrorized, their teacher is eaten, a student has an arm and shoulder practically torn to shreds and Maggie stands up to them, gets very, very torn up after a small magical accident. Cue Dresden, he drives them off, he becomes a hero to a class of impressionable children and he has them go walking to a phone. Maggie wakes a week later in the hospital, Dresden explains he's her father, the hospital gives her a green light to leave, and since I was too attached to the Beetle, it still exists and Maggie and Mouse get a ride with Dresden. On their way to Michael's, Dresden notices he's being tailed, but an hour and a half drive through the city doesn't lose them, and they do a lunatic run down an icy road in the woods. This entire week, it's been snowing steadily. They think they lost the person, but to be sure, the Beetle gets a coating of an illusion, they go for a walk in the woods, leaving Mouse to guard the car. In the woods, Maggie remembers what happened to dear old mum Susan, gets upset, cue Mavra. Fight scene, then Maggie discovers a splintery stick and tanks Mavra off a two hundred foot cliff and stakes Mavra.

That's just Snowflakes.

Silver Fire is about Dresden trying to figure out what to do: Leave Maggie there, unconscious, in the woods to get help, stay with her and hope she comes round, or, if she's dying, to kill her off himself, or let things happen on their own time. Mouse finally helps in the rescue after an appearance from Toot, Ebenezar and Sanya appear from plot device land, and Maggie gets in an ambulance.

She dies on the way there.

Dresden kick-starts her, she wakes up in the hospital, and here is where everything starts.

Gah, that's a lot of plot. And geez, that's a long author's note!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dresden Files, and the quotes below are in public domain and not part of copyright.

* * *

_Beauty is a fragile gift._

_~Ovid_

_If there is no struggle, there is no progress._

_~Frederick Douglass_

* * *

I was getting a little too used to waking up in hospitals already.

One eye wouldn't open, my head hurt like hell (Er, heck. Or something that won't make Charity mad), and I couldn't feel my legs.

But my first act of business was to notice that it looked a bit like there was a rabbit on the ceiling and second was to look down at my father's back.

There was something on the floor. He was ill? Dresden? I coughed quietly to get his attention.

"My Buffy imitation needs practice, huh?" I said. There was gauze taped to his cheek. "Do I get points for trying?"

He laughed, ducking his head. Even Murphy grinned.

"Yes Maggie, you do," he said softly. Then he looked at the window, following the path of the moonlight. Then he looked down at paper cup in his hand. "I'm glad you're okay."

I sat up, looking at Murphy as I propped myself on my hands. "Is he usually sappy?" Ow, my back...

"No. Must've hit his head. The Beetle crash?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Then I don't know. How you feeling?"

"Like Hell."

Murphy snorted. "That's obvious, kid. You fell down a cliff. Be specific."

"Like I had a head-on collision with Michael's truck while on my bike again, while simultaneously getting everything below the waist removed. Better?"

"She ran into my truck?"

Michael limped in, a tall black man on one side and an ancient man on the other.

"Yep! Who are you guys?"

"Gets right to the point," said the black man with a thick accent. He smiled slightly.

"You didn't answer my question."

"And you didn't answer mine," countered Michael.

"That's Sanya, and the other one's Ebenezar. He's another wizard." Harry waved his hand at them.

"I'm Maggie! Hi Michael. I've been in the hospital a lot this week, huh?"

"None of those topics are connected," Ebenezar noticed, leaning on a thick wooden staff. I shook my head.

"Sorry. My head isn't working with itself." I rubbed my uncovered eye. Cue nurse.

"Woah, don't do that, honey. It isn't good for your eyes, and you're going to need your remaining one."

"..." I looked up at her, focusing on a curl that had escaped her ponytail. "Remaining?"

"I don't know what you did-"

"I fell off a cliff," I said helpfully.

"But you caused possible mental damage and managed to blind yourself in your left eye, as well end up paralyzed below the waist. And you just got out of here today!"

British accents are good for scolding. I wilted. "'M sorry."

"It's not your fault. It's icy out there, and nobody can reason with madfolk."

"We reason with Dresden all the time," Murphy said. I glared at her.

"I was gonna say that!"

A few disguised snickers as a janitor mopped up Dresden's stomach. Murphy looked at Michael. "So where can I adopt her?"

He shook his head gently. "You'd have to wrestle her from-"

"Margaret Angelica Rodriguez!"

I cowered. "Full name," I whispered.

Charity stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed. The children in the room cowered with me in fear of the almighty mother.

"What did you _do?__"_

"I...fell off a cliff?"

The nurse yanked a zebra printed curtain around our group, disappearing.

"_What_were you doing around a cliff?"

"Vampire escape artists?"

That made her pause.

"Mavra was tailing us," Harry managed to mumble.

"Did I ask you?" Charity said, voice dripping venom. "Harry Dresden. If you wish to leave this room through the door and not the window, I would keep your mouth _shut.__"_

We all backed up unconsciously, or at least tried to.

"It's true," he whined. Wait, whined?

Charity slapped him upside the head. "In that case, you should have brought her straight home! Faith protect us, Harry, she could have died! And now we've got Mavra-" He was shaking his head. "We don't have Mavra. Explain."

He pointed to me.

I was the subject of ten eyes, one of which was blind.

"So what did you do?" Sanya asked first.

"A poor stake."

It took them a minute to catch the double meaning. Ebenezar was the first to laugh. Even Charity cracked a smile.

"You know, Hoss. This means..."

He nodded. "Council meeting. The Black Court has to sort itself out, which will cause more problems than usual."

"Yep. And..."

Dresden pressed a loose fist to his forehead. "Oh. Great. Do I have to, sir?"

"Not just you, Maggie. _And_her class."

He looked at Charity. "Any chance you could put _me_ in the hospital for the council meeting?"

She cracked a few knuckles. "What an appealing idea, Dresden. Hold still."

Charity floored him before anyone could move.

"What is going on here?" The nurse jerked back the curtain as Dresden carefully sat up from where he lay against the floor, holding his unstitched cheek.

"Nothing, ma'am."

She raised a single eyebrow. "You all will bloody well tell me what's going on or I'll remove from this ward until next doomsday!" She looked at all of us. "Which, at this rate, will be this Tuesday."

"I'm betting on Wednesday," Murphy said.

"No, Monday. At five o'clock."

There was nodding and a few sighs.

"Now, you all behave yourselves! I'll be keeping on you all! And shame on you, Mrs. Carpenter! Don't bully those weaker than yourself!"

"He asked for it," Murphy said, leaning on the windowsill.

"I'm sure he did," she said disbelievingly. "If ye going te fight, do it outside! I hae patients te care fer!" Her stolid British accent slipped, leaving a light Scottish burr.

We stared after her as she left.

"Anyone you know, sir?"

"Hoss..." he said warningly.

"At least carry a bottle, so ye hae an excuse!" she added, glaring at us. Sanya waved a flask. "Outside, young man." She reapplied the British accent on the last three words. "There are minors around. Including, I might add, right in front of-Drop it!"

I obediently set down the flask I'd taken from Sanya's grip. I was the given The Look by all adults present.

"What?"

The Look increased.

"That's vodka."

I shrugged.

"You're a minor," Murphy said slowly, enunciating. "You are eleven years short of drinking age."

I looked up at Dresden. "So where can I get a pair of stilts?"

"Sorry, kid, no." But he smirked, ever so slightly.

"I get attacked by a vampire twice and fall off a cliff in less than a week. I think I earned it."

"I think we don't need a drunk patient."

"I think that I'm not that stupid."

"Hit your head hard, didn't you, sunshine?"

"Yeah. What's your point?"

"That you need to shut up, because we're not letting you have vodka."

"Why?"

"Murphy's an ex-cop, did you know?"

I blinked. "So she can leave!"

"Why are you so determined anyway?"

"Because you're arguing." I crossed my arms. Dresden put his hands in his pockets, glaring at the floor. He kicked an invisible item.

"...Stubborn, mule-head b-" Dresden cut himself off. Charity had started giving him The LOOK. Which, by the way, is not the same as The Look. The LOOK has more power and is used on those who are supposedly old enough to know better. Dresden cowered before a woman eight inches shorter than him.

"Right! All of you clear out! Visiting hours are tomorrow, eleven to five! Come back when you can all behave yourselves!" The nurse glared at us all. "And you lie back down! Your spine isn't strong enough yet!"

To grumbling, I lay down and my mob of adults left.

The nurse sighed, bending over me. "Sorry about that, honey. Sometimes, I think adults need a good lesson in maturity."

I started to nod.

"No, don't do that either. It's a jolt, to your neck and head, which, well. I won't bore you. Now." She had rich green eyes. "I'm about to tell you a number of things you won't like, but I want you to promise to listen. Okay?"

I waved a thumbs up in response. I'd had painkillers earlier and I didn't even know it. My arm and shoulders were flaming up.

"You're paralyzed below the waist, you have muscle damage to both shoulders, your left arm and your right leg. I'm surprised you were able to walk on it earlier, but you children do have remarkable healing capabilities. You're blinded in left eye, of which your sight may or may not come back, but don't bet on it. The-Should I stop a moment, honey?"

I looked down at my arm, suddenly noticing the bandages, which I had managed to ignore since I'd woken up. Twisting my head, I looked at a clock on the wall. Nine o'clock, Saturday, which meant it was the twelfth of November. The camping trip had started Monday, and we'd been attacked that night.

Why did it feel like it had happened six years ago, not six days?

I gulped, turned my head to look out the window and became aware of how badly my depth perception sucked.

"It's so strange. I know those trees are far away. I looked at them earlier. But now I can't tell. It looks so...Flat."

"That's because you need two eyes to get depth perception. Are...Do you want me to continue? Or should I tell later?"

I continued to stare. "Go on."

"The blindness is caused by both physical damage to your eye, which seems to have had some sort of burning particles enter it and a splinter of aged bone,"

I blinked my remaining eye. How the hell...

"As well as damage to the visual centers of your brain. Now...I think that's everything drastic. You have minor burns on your hands, but the painkillers should be wearing off now, so you won't notice under all your other pains. Excuse me. I'll go get your medications."

She stood up, leaving me alone.

So I was half-blind, paralyzed and apparently had mental damage.

What the heck happened between Monday and today? Did some god get bored and decide that I was his personal chew toy?

I stared at the ceiling, feeling my upper body building up to large levels of pain, when someone sat up next to me, letting out that sound you hear only when you're restraining a scream and some gets past, leaky tea kettle style. I turned myself, lying on my side.

It was Matthew. He was sitting up, clutching his arm, biting his lip.

"...Hi."

He turned to look at me, then his eyes got wide. "Maggie?" he managed to whisper. I gave him a thumbs up.

"What happened to you?"

I started to shrug and thought better of it. "Stuff. I killed that lead vampire, but I didn't have enough style. Maybe I should get a cape."

He grinned. "Glad you're okay."

"So why are you here?"

"I keep tearing stitches, or I'm screaming in pain. And when I'm not doing that, I'm

"Babbling on about fantasy creatures, claiming that's what attacked us." Mom finally said I should stay here. They've kept me sedated, so my "Mind can sort itself out and be rid of this vampire notion.""

I rolled my eyes. "Adults. Don't know anything."

"I know! I know it was a-" He shut up as the nurse came back, holding a few small yellow prescription med container.

"This, honey, is your medicines. You'll take them three times a day, and the painkiller can be taken up to five times a day, at two or three hour intervals. Now..." She looked at a clipboard. "Sadly, we can't give you a dose today, as you had a surgical procedure to remove that splinter from your eye, and you were given IVs containing painkillers while you were under during the week. Do you think you'll be okay? I can have a nurse sit with you tonight if you need it." She looked so concerned. I shook my head.

"I'm fine. Don't...Don't trouble yourself."

She looked at me, shaking her head. She muttered something, then turned to Matthew. "I don't want you two talking too much. It can reinforce that fairy tale of yours, and we don't need that."

"Yes, ma'am," he said meekly.

She gave him a sad smile. "Go to sleep, Mr. Abbott. Things look better in the morning."

"Good night, Mrs. Brigfield." She handed him a small pill and a wax paper cup. He swallowed it unwillingly, and lay down. She pulled the curtain around his bed, then went around, pulling the curtains around several beds. I watched her work as went around the room, tucking in children, whispering things, handing a small flashlight back into the reach of one who was nearly a teen. She pulled the curtain around that one too, as she opened a thick novel.

Finally, she came back to me. I'd been thinking as she walked. I remember the family that fostered me originally. The Mendolaz were a kind family. They raised me, taught me to speak two languages (Though it took me coming here to learn to read something other than spanish) and helped me through the matter of my mother, treating me like any of their other four children.

And I remember they always said "She'll be a beauty, one day. Just wait and see."

But would that still be true? I would have scars after this, and I'd be stuck in a wheelchair. I wanted to think that what they told my mother would be true.

The nurse rolled me back onto my back.

"You okay, honey?"

"Am I still pretty?" I blurted. She gave me a kind smile that I knew I was going to rapidly become familiar with, setting a triangular pillow behind me to elevate me.

"That depends on your opinion of pretty. That's one of those things where the opinion changes all the time."

"...I look horrible, don't I?"

She shook her head.

"And don't say true beauty is on the inside, because nobody looks there. Not till you die and the coron-person slices you open."

That smile was there. "You'll be fine. You look pretty enough for a gal in a hospital, and scars heal in time. But for now, you should be proud of them."

There was still a rabbit on the ceiling, despite the lights being out. I watched it, trying to make it appear less flat.

"What's beauty supposed to be an'way?"

"It's..." There was the soft whisper of fabric as she sat. "It's something that the world admires in a set of people, and often wants to have themselves. Or it's something that makes you feel glad, happy. Something that the sight of might make you upset because you can't change yourself enough to get, or happy just because it exists." She paused. "It's a rainbow, in a way. There are shades of beauty. I guess it's a lot like love, when you get down to it."

She was silent for a time, so I risked tilting my head. She was looking out the window, watching the sky. Then, slowly, she stood, tucked in the sheet around me, and walked away.

If beauty was something that made you happy, then I guess me being alive, after all this week had tossed to me, was beauty. Matthew was still alive too, not turned into those creatures, with all his limbs and most of his skin.

The first shade of beauty. Living through hardship.

* * *

I love my little explanation of what beauty is! It's...Well, inspiring.

The review button. Press it. It makes me happy to type faster. I accept anonymous reviews.


	2. The Colors

I have fans! I'm so happy! Thankee for reading!

Warning, this chapter contains some disturbing material, Harry Sailortongue and grey area morals.

* * *

_Man never made any material as resilient as the human spirit._

_~Bern Williams_

_Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten._

_~David Ogden Steirs_

* * *

Fuck.

The.

World.

Fuck it. Murder it in a back alley and leave it to rot. Slit its throat and stuff it under a motel room mattress.

If the world wasn't safe enough for a little girl to live in, it didn't deserve to continue living either.

I muttered small curses as I nearly stomped my way to my apartment.

After my house burned down and I had my (not-)death, I had a chance to move up in the housing department. From a boardinghouse basement...

To a boardinghouse basement that had an _extra__room!_ And _three_more square footage of space in the living room!

The extra bedroom was a storage closet of brilliant proportions just from the way I managed to stack and balance things. It had taken all of six months to gather the amount of junk that had previously taken years to collect. It's easy once you know what you're looking for.

The bedrooms were still the size of truck beds though.

It wasn't quite the same though. Not because my old apartment had been more homey or anything. I'm a bachelor, and all the beatings my house had taken in the past meant it was a bit of a bad memory collection.

No, it was because as I shoved my way in, there was no Mister to throw himself against my legs in a thirty pound body slam.

That's because Mister's body was currently buried in the backyard of the boardinghouse.

I'd found Mister, soon after I'd gotten the place. I'd definitely found him. In time to say goodbye. He'd been hit by a car and was bleeding out by the side of the road. The little kitten I'd rescued tailless was no more.

I stepped in, looked at the fireplace and gave a sad smile to the picture of him that Michael had dug up from somewhere. I'm not sure what Michael was doing taking pictures of my cat or when he'd done so, but it was Mister, and it was something.

I hung up my duster, looking around the room, and had to stop myself from waving a hand to light the candles. I didn't have the magic to spare for that. Sighing, I picked up a book of matches and went around, lighting candles and getting the fire going. It flared, making me curse again as I dodged a sheet of sparks.

It was too damn empty in here.

I looked at the floor. The old renter had put in carpeting. They'd done a better job than when I'd done the same to my old house. It was just a shade volatile enough to make me puke. So I had rugs again, mismatched and scattered everywhere, and the floor was comfy enough to accidentally fall asleep on.

Subbasements are everywhere in Chicago boardinghouses, apparently, or I'm just good at finding the places with them. I looked at the trapdoor, opened it, and stepped down, taking my duster with me.

There wasn't nearly enough as there was before. Most of what I had was the illegal items I'd hidden for safekeeping after the FBI came by. They sat on their shelves, plenty of space all around, with only one table against a wall.

Bob, sitting on a wood shelf I'd installed just for him, yawned, eyes flaring with orange. "How's hero kid?"

"She fell off a cliff."

I thought he would fall off. His eye-lights turned a brighter shade of orange.

"_What?__"_

"But she survived. She also killed Mavra."

Silence. Dead silence.

"There's going to be a council meeting soon. Probably within the next week. There aren't too many anymore, gathering's easy."

"Wait, wait, wait. You're going to a council meeting? Harry, you're practically an outsider now! You're the Winter Knight! You'll be lucky to get near the same block as the building!"

"So I'm going to just take Maggie and leave her in their hands?"

"Yeah."

"Not a chance in hell."

"And you'd know that, wouldn't you?"

"Bob," I said warningly. Then I slung a bag at him. "There's a novel for you. To rebuild that old collection of yours."

"Finally! What took you so long?"

"Finding a seller who didn't know me. Some of them seem to remember every book they sold."

"So?"

"Why would a man buy two copies of those books, Bob?"

"I don't know, Dresden. You're the lonely deprived bachelor. You tell me."

"I'm not lonely, and I'm definitely not deprived."

"Su-ure..."

"I'm not lonely!"

I surprised to find that that was almost true.

"Not that that would matter. Keep those things out of reach. I'm thinking Maggie should move here to keep safe."

"...What?"

"The Black Court, unfriendly bastards they are, aren't going to be happy she offed one of their own so easily. She'll need to stay somewhere safe. This is the best we've got. Michael can't do anything anymore, Sanya's...Sanya and doesn't even live in this state, Father Forthill has done enough already-"

"Murphy?"

"Is a mortal."

"Is a Knight of the Cross."

I stopped in the act of sorting several things that were already sorted. "What?"

"You didn't know? She's been since, oh...About a month after you died. She also rescued me from that stupid boat."

I nearly dropped the jar in my hands. I knew she'd been asked, hell, I'd asked, but...Well, it was surprising all the same.

I set down the jar, neatly labeled with the words Rhino Horn, and sighed. "In that case, this really is the safest place."

"Really?"

"Murphy's a demon hunter. That gets their attention."

"You're the Winter Knight. You have everything's attention."

"Yeah, but I can deal with those problems while protecting her and I won't spout about religion while I'm at it."

"She doesn't do that either."

I rolled my eyes.

"Besides. I'm her dad. I'm obligated to protect her."

"No you're not. Plenty of fathers do nothing for their kids."

"And I don't want to be that father. Where's a good place to hide depleted uranium?"

"That top wire shelf that you found the dead mummified kitten on."

I shuddered, actually having to stretch to reach the shelf mentioned, sliding the lead-lined box onto it. It hadn't been a truly mummified kitten. Just a kitten left in a cool dry place to die years ago. It had been a skeleton with a skin stretched over it, and it had even disturbed Bob, for a moment. I'd burned it immediately.

I was still looking for the rest of the litter. The old renter had never used the sub-basement, in all his years. He said it had "Creeped the hell outta me the second I stepped in. So I closed it up, put a mat over it and tried to forget it existed."

How did we know there was a rest of the litter? Bob could hear their ghosts mewing, whenever I wasn't hear, and on occasion I heard them too.

I could hear one right now. It was disturbing, a definite pained mewling. Bob's eyes flared, he said something I didn't pay attention to, and it ended.

I really had to find that litter.

"So this kid, is she hot?"

"She's nine."

"Oh. Do you think she'll be hot?"

"The day she starts puberty, she never enters the lab, ever." I paused, looking at a cloth sitting discreetly on a shelf. The last of my sunshine-in-a-handkerchief. I'd bought it off a hedgewitch who was always smiling and was now also dead. Lots of dead, you may have noticed.

"Of course, she may never enter the lab anyway," I mused.

"Why's that?"

"Wheelchairs and ladders don't do well together."

"Oh. I'm sorry," Bob said for aesthetics. "What happened?"

"Like I said, she fell off a cliff. Dead kitten." I had moved a box and found it, a skeleton this time, curled up in sleep. I picked it up, cradling it like it was alive, showing it to Bob. He nodded. I held it out, concentrated, and it the bones dissolved into flame. The air lightened immediately.

Nothing like clearing out the dead to make a place seem brighter. I still avoided looking at the candles. If you watched them long enough, shadows batted at them with too large and infantile paws.

I was pretty sure a live cat would soon get rid of the dead ones, but I just didn't want to. A new pet meant a new little heartbreak down the road. Mouse was bad enough.

"Harry," Bob snapped. I looked at the workdesk. A dark shape of a kitten bowed in front of me, ghost eyes bright like life still sparked there, and vanished. One death solved, who the hell knows left.

I looked at the sunshine again, then shook my head. "I'm going back upstairs, Bob. See you tomorrow."

"Right! If Mab gives you a job, get her to be naked for you! I want to hear about it!"

I rolled my eyes, heading up the stepladder. Ghostly mewls started up behind me.

I pulled a rug over the door and shuddered, sitting next to the fire.

There was a knock at the door.

I sighed, picked up the nearest weapon just to be sure, and walked over, letting the baseball bat hang limply in my hand.

"What-Oh. Hello."

It was one of the local hedgewitches. One of the ones who never came to the local Warden (Yes, I was still a Warden) because he didn't need to. I couldn't even remember his name.

"Why did they take her?"

"Excuse me?"

"A wizard. Went to my next door neighbor and carted away her foster daughter. Why?"

"Is her name Millie?"

"Yes. How-"

"Council meeting will be sooner than I thought," I muttered. Looking back at the man, I said. "Probably because she was a witness to the events on Monday. Anything else? It's after midnight."

"Yeah. If she don't come home safe, you won't either, one day."

"I'll make sure she stays safe."

"If someone so much as glances at her wrong..." his dark eyes conveyed the bloody mess I would turn into.

"I'll alert the Senior Council and she quietly leaves the meeting and goes home."

"She's only a little orphan, Dresden. She'd better. That kid don't have enough in this world."

I nodded. "I know. She's not the only orphan around here." I nearly shut the door, then stopped. "Do you know any good parenting tips? Just curious."

"Because the girl in the newspapers is your daughter. Knew the second I saw her face. I'm good at that." He stretched, pulling him from his threatening slump. "Well...The best I can tell you is don't be my dad and remember that kids like to have fun. 'Spect to splurge on zoo trips."

"How about alchemy sets?"

"They also love explosions, yeah. I gotta go." He bounded up the steps and I shut the door.

Then there was a knock. I opened it again.

"Also remember that family means no one gets left behind. You gotta carry her through the things she can't walk through herself, even if she don't like it."

Then he really was gone, and I locked and bolted the door, shuffling to my room. I collapsed on my bed.

I hated my new alarm clock. It was never accurate.

In fact, I woke up because the phone rang.

As I tended to nowadays, I dropped several curses on my way to it. Some of them I learned from other languages. Keeping the company of fairy folk does teach you things. I think they thought I knew them already though.

Most of them translated to things involving a lack of male fertility, cheating wives, and many things that are only really horrible in this time if you're the Carpenter family and therefore keep strict morals. Except for the one about the burning green slime.

I picked up the phone, about to growl something about said slime and where it would be going, when-

"Hey, Dresden."

My anger, cold enough already, froze solid and shattered. I nearly dropped the receiver. "M...Murphy?"

"Yeah. Look, I know we haven't talked a lot and all..."

I snorted. More like never.

"But...Well..."

"Murphy, stop hesitating."

"First of all, you still owe me a night of drinking. Since you copped out."

She remembered that...Wow, that was still really appealing.

"Second, that entire class is going to need help and be guarded, especially Maggie. I know you're the Winter Knight now and you're supposed to be all powerful, but you still can't be in seventeen places at once."

"Sixteen. Council's already getting the kids for their meeting. Bastards. Think they can do whatever they want with mortals."

I didn't get a reply from Murphy on that front, but I knew she was as pissed as I was.

I was surprised to find I felt warm. Were you supposed to feel warmer when you were angry?

"Well, I can dispatch members of the Chicago Alliance to keep an eye on them. And I can get a member of the Paranet in as their substitute teacher on Monday. Unless they're-"

"They got Millie because she would be the easiest. She's in foster care. It'll take a few days for them to work out how to get the rest."

"Right."

"Thanks, Murphy."

"Sure, Dresden. I'll get em to work. I don't trust the council farther than I can spit."

She hung up. I looked at the phone a moment and nodded. "You learn, Murph."

Then I set the phone down and went back to my room.

Judging by the clock, and using a form of math and instinct, I knew it was about ten. I should have been up at seven.

I got myself through a cold shower and dressed, pulling out a jean and t-shirt combination. It was after I put it on that I realized it was one of those that Molly's siblings ordered off the Internet at her request. I just thought it was white. It was. There was just a white wolf trotting along the bottom, like through a field of snow. There were even a few pawprints behind him.

I had this thing buried at the bottom of my dresser, determined to never wear it. Well damn.

I had spent the last few days in running shoes, since they had more tread then my boots. Also, Mab had me chasing after something on Wednesday. Don't ask what it was. I caught it and I still don't know.

Pulling them on, I picked up a slim piece of roughed up metal and clipped it to the underside, across the widest section, the ends fitting snugly to the shoe. Like roughing up horseshoes in winter. It made for better grip, I just had to remember to take them off when entering important buildings.

Standing up, I considered the idea that it had probably stopped snowing and that I might as well take a walk. Then I could visit Maggie.

Outside, a few flakes landed on my head as I walked up the steps. Oh, just great. Knock it off, Mab.

But I continued on my walk anyway. A look in the phone book had revealed I lived within a few miles of some of the kids.

The snow had piled up, and despite all the trampling, it was three feet, packed nearly solid. Against buildings and in parks it was upward of four and five feet.

The roads were cleared though. The snowplows were out every morning, dealing with it. It made the edges of the sidewalk even deeper.

I walked close to the buildings, passing other people who were trying to do the same and still stay on their side of the walkway.

Something pounced out of an alley at me.

I'm really paranoid. The second something jumped at my shoe, I reached for my magic and the knife in my pocket at the same time.

It was a kitten, playing with my shoelaces.

The knife, by the way, was a gift, so I could stop walking around without a gun license and risk getting arrested. It had a three inch blade, it folded into its handle swiss army style, but it was extremely handy. I had runes carved into it now. It could now channel magic as much as it could slice your throat.

The kitten, a brown tabby (I think) with white (Brown-gray) paws and throat (Off-white, from kitten washings), hadn't even realized. It purred as it looked at me.

I swallowed the lump that appeared unexpectedly, and crouched down, reaching a hand to it.

It had the look of something that lived in a dumpster, dirty and with a stench. But the eyes were bright, ears flicking to try to track every sound around. I watched it bound up to another person, who nudged it away without even glancing at it. It sat down, watching them walk away dejectedly.

More of a puppy than a kitten. But I reached over again. Now it noticed my fingers, batting at them happily until I picked it up by the scruff.

It couldn't be much older than four or five weeks. It still had milk teeth.

It curled its tail and paws close to itself, but a snowflake flew by and it stretched out to grab it.

It was a girl.

Sighing and muttering things to myself, I held her against my chest, allowing her to reach up and scrabble onto my shoulder, between my neck and my coat collar.

I continued my walk, listening to the general sounds as I walked past apartments. It got a little harder to hear past kitten breathing noises, but I managed.

"Mr. Dresden?"

I looked down. It was that girl, Maya. Her dark hair was braided back.

"Yes?"

"Why is there a kitten on your shoulder?"

"She'll get lost in my pockets, and I need my hands free."

"Oh. Mr. Dresden?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Do you know where Millie is? I can't find her anywhere. We were going to go visit Maggie."

I sighed. "I have a general idea."

She clung to my arm. "Can you tell me? Please? 'M worried!"

I got down on one knee so we were level. "She's with a wizard."

"Wow!"

I shook my head. "They're trying to find out what happened on Monday. They'll looking for all of you. Tell your classmates who went on the trip."

"Is that good or bad?"

"It could be either."

"Will you be there?"

"Yes."

"Then we'll be fine!"

I sighed. Children. Did they have to be so damn trusting?

"Be careful though. Things aren't as safe as the snow makes it look." I stood and walked off. She gave me a confused look.

I caught a glimpse of Billy, standing on a street corner.

I finished my rounds, came home, and dumped a kitten in my kitchen sink. She mewled up at me in protest as I banked up the fire place and started the kitchen stove. Damn, this place seemed colder than I thought...

I warmed some water to lukewarm and unceremoniously dumped Miss Mewl into it. She wailed, but the warmth took the edge off of her problems. Dish soap was rubbed into her fur and she began popping bubbles.

The water she was in looked a bit like mud as I dumped it out and rinsed her off. Had she played in a mud patch or something?

Then I repeated it.

Twice.

By the time I was done, she smelled like cheap brand dish soap and had turned into an amazingly tiny skeleton with fur attached. Huge green eyes looked at me.

"Meew..."

I picked her up and wrapped her in a towel. I set that next to the fireplace and made myself some coffee.

There was a knock at the door.

Holding the mug, and still in my coat, I opened the door.

It was Molly. I'm dead serious, it was Molly.

"...Hey boss," she said quietly, rubbing the sleeve of a thick coat.

"Hello Molly."

"I was walking by, and decided to drop in, so..."

I didn't even know she knew where I lived.

"Come on in," I said, holding the door open. She gave me a careful smile and eased in.

Something about her body seemed wrong, but I couldn't figure it out until she took the coat off.

"You're pregnant."

It wasn't a large difference, but she was holding herself in that shoulders back stance already. The small bump was obvious in her almost skin-tight sweater.

"Yeah," she said sadly, eyes tracing the floor. She wrapped an arm around one shoulder, making herself hunch over.

"Why?"

"It was a mistake. I didn't even like the guy, but he talked right and bought me a few drinks..."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, so she wouldn't see my face.

"And then mom found out, and we're not exactly an abortion-friendly family..." She looked at the ceiling now. "And anyway, hormones kicked in. I got attached. And the guy was a good friend, and..."

"So...How many excuses are left?" I asked. "I have things to do."

"...Think that's all of them, for now. What are you doing anyway? Clipping toenails?"

"Clearing out a storeroom, trying to remember ratio of what you feed a nursing age kitten, visiting Maggie, helping keep an eye on the rest of her class, locating vampire repellants, and I'll probably get a job from My Lady Mab later."

She took a moment to reattach her jaw. "Wow. You are busy."

"And the job means there's going to be another alley cat behind my house, if I'm right," I muttered.

"Need a hand?" she asked, not hearing. "That kitten thing..." She looked around. "Say. Where's Mister?"

"Dead, year or so back," I said, walking back to the fireplace. Miss Mewl had poked her head out and was looking a little too interested in the grate. I picked her up as she reached out to it. "Bad kitty."

Her ears wilted at my tone. It made her eyes look too large for her skull.

"Aww! It's so cute! Where'd you find it?"

"She," I supplied. "Playing in an alleyway."

Miss Mewl was whisked from my hands, hugged against Molly's chest.

"You're so precious! Yes you are! What's the name?"

Nothing like kittens to cheer people up.

"She...Doesn't have one."

"I'm gonna call her Princess!"

"No."

"Lady?"

"That's a Disney mutt. No."

"Rogue!"

I paused in the act of saying no. "What?"

"Rogue!"

"It's a girl, Molly. Remember?"

"So? There are female rogues! Roleplay games!"

I sighed. "Fine. Rogue. I'm only letting you call her that because you're pregnant."

She crossed her arms, but I'd already turned to the storeroom. I'd only mentioned it in hopes I'd be left alone, but now I thought about it...

Actually, now I thought about it, I had doubts up to my ears. What if I wasn't allowed to take her in? What if she started to hate me? What if I hurt her? What if-

"You have that doubting look. Is it really that..." She looked in. "Bad. Holy mother of God, Dresden! What the hell!"

Okay, worry later, clean now. The room had the look of one where gravity decided to be kind and ease off a little, letting things balance in ways and positions I shouldn't have thought were possible.

It was a minefield waiting to happen.

"Start near the door and work in? Or start in the farthest corner?"

"...Door. If you want to walk through this though, be my guest."

We started sorting through stacks of novels.

"Dresden, are you really desperate enough to buy romance erotica?"

"Bob's. I took it away because he was being an ass. Must have forgotten to give it back. Just throw at the trapdoor."

She tossed the book over her shoulder. Rogue yowled when it nearly clipped her. And back to sorting...

In less than half an hour, we went through and shelved nearly fifty books, found many, many, many ingredients for magic I'd been given and hadn't noticed, blankets, cat supplies, dog supplies, torn up ancient everything, and cobwebs. Also, dismantled bookshelves.

Pulling a board off the tiny sunken window, I remembered that under the junk in the middle of the room was an old spring mattress that came with the place because the old renter had no space or time to get rid of it.

I kicked it. There was an odd grating sound, the rusted springs rubbing against each other. Molly winced with me.

"...Right, done for today! Let's go visit Maggie."

She nodded with me. We stumbled into the living room.

I'd kept a litter box in a corner just out of habit. By this point it had turned into a kitty litter version of a meditation garden, one that no one went near and was lacking even the customary rake.

Rogue was sitting in it. She stood, scratched litter over her business, and hopped down.

"...Wow. Housebroken already. How'd you do that, Dresden?"

I shrugged. Rogue trotted over, pawing at my leg.

Family means no one gets left behind. I scooped her up, putting her in my pocket.

Then it was out to the Beetle. The multi-colored car greeted and harassed my eyes. Recently, neon green had been added to the mix.

Molly shielded her eyes. "Ow. That... Dresden, if I came round and spray-painted your car one night, would you care?"

I shrugged. "Just the neon. I'm attached to the other colors."

And we got into the car, I put Rogue on the dashboard, and we started for the hospital. The Beetle, coughing obediently, got us all the way there and died in the parking lot.

"Sir, that's handicap."

"My car could apply for handicap," I told the man.

"Excuse me?"

"It just died. You want it moved, do it yourself." And I walked around him. At the doors, I glanced back. Molly caught up.

"Left a note on the dashboard, so no one else can complain, boss."

"Good grasshopper." I shoved the doors, rolling my eyes at the snowy sky, and we struggled our way through the lobby, visiting requirements, and many things that only make sense to the government. "Actually," I said in the elevator, "You're not a grasshopper anymore, huh?" Rogue, in my pocket, purred against my fingertips. "You're...I dunno, a journeyman."

She gave me a look, which I ignored as I did all other looks.

The elevator dinged as we arrived.

The childrens ward was obvious when we arrived at it. Not just the decorations, or the kids. It was the condescending tone being used by an adult within.

"But you must _never_ approach a guide dog in this. Do you know why?"

Dead silence. No kid wants to answer to someone who thinks they're too young to understand the word harness.

I stepped in, looked at the woman and the guide dog next to her, and gave the dog a pitying look.

"Wow," I said. "They're giving out classes on common sense? That's new."

The woman gave me a glare, probably for using a word as large as common.

"Is there a new reason not to go near a dog in harness? I thought it was because they were working. Like every other guide dog these kid have seen." I scanned the ward. There was a guide dog, lying down by one kid's bed. I raised my eyebrows at him. He gave a slight shrug.

"Excuse me, _sir._ What business do you have in here?"

"Visiting."

"Who would you be visiting? I don't see any giants in here."

I walked up to her and looked down. "And I don't see any fools, but you're teaching like there are. Go find some infants to insult, why don't you?"

She was shaking with anger.

"Or better yet, go back to school. Since you were teaching a kid with a guide dog why not to approach one, you need it."

She turned back to the kids, ignoring me.

"Now, children, do you know that you should never a-"

"Take your condescending crap elsewhere," Molly said, leaning against the doorway with the British nurse.

"I thought I told you. You don't talk to the children that way. They are young, not stupid," she said, voice snippy. "Out, Lori. Don't make me remove you forcefully."

Lori rolled her eyes, but left.

"And put that dog back where you found it! Just because he was resting in the staff room doesn't make him a loaner!"

She sighed. "I work with idiots..."

"Don't we all?"

She nodded at me, then perked. "Right, kids! Sorry you had to sit through that. Is everyone still alive?"

There was some nodding.

"Nope! I'm dead! Her speech murdered me!" Maggie grinned, before letting her tongue fall to the side of her mouth. "Thee?"

I sat down. "The dead don't breath. Also, here."

I pulled out Rogue, dropping her on Maggie. Maggie, propped up behind pillows, blinked in surprise. Then her face brightened. "Kitty!"

"Yep. Her name's Rogue. She jumped me in an alley."

She giggled, letting Rogue bury under her arm. She reached over, petting the pale brown tabby. "Millie didn't come in today," she said quietly. "Maya said you would tell me."

I sighed. And now they were depending on me... "The council is calling a meeting. Everyone who saw what happened will be there. They just took Millie early."

"Do I have to go?"

"Yes."

Maggie looked at the ceiling, dark eye outlining something. "Will you be there to protect us? Murphy was talking about the council earlier."

"Yes. And Molly."

Molly took this moment to crouch by the bed. "Mouse has been here. I can see his fur."

"Mr. Dresden!"

I looked at the next bed. Matthew, who I remember only by the stitched up arm, was sitting there, looking a little drugged up.

"Hi."

"Hi! My head is weird..."

"Then go to sleep."

"But 'm not sleepy."

"Yes you are. You are getting sleepy...Very sleepy..." The nurse waved a yoyo in front of his face. Then she did something to his IV. He passed out in a matter of minutes.

"Poor boy. Thinks its vampires that did this. We keep him down or he rips stitches in nightmares. Or even just moving! We'll have to put his arm in a sling, or the stitches will never heal..." she clucked her tongue. "How are you today? And who's this?"

"I'm fine. This is an old apprentice of mine. Molly Carpenter."

Molly waved.

"So, Mr. Dresden. Have you been informed of the extent of her injuries?"

"Yes," I lied. I didn't need to be informed. I could see Maggie's clipboard, if Maggie herself wasn't enough a clue.

"Well, good. We don't think the mental damage extends beyond her vision, but I'll do some final testing tomorrow, and we'll see. She's been good about not putting too much pressure on her spine, and the muscle tearing is healing. She's permanently blinded in her left eye, sadly. We discovered that earlier. That retina won't heal. Scar tissue is forming."

Oh. Ow. Damn. Maybe I shouldn't have lied.

"But all in all, she's doing well, she gets off IV tomorrow morning, and if you promise not to be a fool again, she can leave within the week."

Maggie perked, I just stared. "The week," I said slowly. "Seriously."

"The world of medicine advances in leaps and bounds. Is it so surprising?"

I nodded, ever so slightly.

"She will have to stay the with the Carpenter family, as you are not listed as legal guardian."

Oh. Great. That was just asking for something to happen to her.

If I left Maggie with them after newspapers had plastered her face all over their front covers, they would be asking for trouble. For all I knew, Maggie was already Warlock Undesirable No.1. And don't get me started on all the demons, fay, unfriendly monsters, Undertown, White Court Vampires, and upstart idiots trying to be evil. The last one wasn't dangerous on a magical front, but could still be dangerous nonetheless.

Molly stood. "Going to go find a phone."

Oh, good, we were thinking the same thing.

Maybe. Probably. I hoped.

The nurse walked off, and Maggie started talking about something that happened after we immature adults were shuffled off last night. I focused over her head and nodded a lot. My thoughts needed reorganization.

Maggie needed a place to stay.

Her original placebo family had been murdered.

Michael's would be in danger if she stayed.

I had a room.

But I wasn't a father.

I wasn't kind enough. I wasn't gentle enough. I wasn't good with anything female or whose name started with M. I didn't have a figure to look up to; my own father had been dead for years.

But most of parenthood was a learn-as-you-go process. I could care for others enough to be there. I had my grandfather, and the memories of my father, few they were.

I had a room.

And I had a heart.

"And she said, that beauty was something that we admire in a set of people and want for ourselves, but she also said that it's also something that makes you happy. It can make you upset because it reminds you of something you can't change yourself to get, or happy just because it exists." She paused for air.

I nodded, thinking over it. "That's...really inspirational, actually."

"She also said that it's like a rainbow. There are shades of beauty, like love. What do you think?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. But those are good words, Maggie. Remember them." I stood, going to stand outside the ward. I leaned my back to the wall, thinking. Maggie was still so much a child, but only because she let herself believe that. Someone would have to stand by her until she lost the illusion and could deal with it.

That someone was me.

"Hey boss. Michael has some papers for you."

I nodded.

If beauty came in colors, so did love.

The color of love was father to daughter, the instinctual feeling to protect something you helped create.

* * *

And that, mine readers, is the second chapter. With luck, they'll all be somewhere as long as this one.

I require someone with a good knowledge of Spanish for the next chapter, or I'll be stuck using Google Translate. Please review or PM if you would like to help.

To all others: Reviews inspire me to write! I accept anonymous ones!


	3. Healing

I return with a Maggie chapter!

This thing is my NaNo XD I'm typing on it that much

Anyway:

AttilaTheNun-The Warlock line was Dresden attempting a Harry Potter joke. A bad one.

And about the kittens...We find out more about them next chapter *evil*

* * *

_Beauty is whatever gives joy._

_~Edna St. Vincent Millay _

_Healing is a matter of time, but it is sometimes also a matter of opportunity. _

_~Hippocrates_

* * *

I don't quite get how it happened, but the next morning when I woke up, Michael looked down at me and said, "Dresden adopted you."

Charity dropped something she was holding for a nurse. "What? Michael..." she said in her _We__'__re-going-to-_talk-_about-this-later_ voice.

"I am?" I said softly. My head wrapped itself around the words, looking for some sort of hidden catch or double meaning. "You mean adopted adopted? He's my guardian? He takes care of me? Signs permission slips? Tells me to go to bed when I stay up too late?"

"Well I hope he does!" Charity sniffed. "You need your sleep!"

"I thought adoption took more than twenty-four hours," Matthew said from his bed, yawning.

"There was something involving the police, government and her safety. It was a speed-adoption. And you need to keep it secret," Michael said. "Or one of the "madfolk" might find out soon." He sat between us. "Vampires have ways of finding out what they shouldn't," he whispered, carefully moving a sore leg in a small circle. He winced.

Matthew sunk down into his bed. "Vampires don't exist. Mrs. Brigfield said so. Iffin I want to leave, I have stop mixing imagination with reality."

Michael snorted. "Just learn to lie. They do exist. Just say to her that you don't think they attacked you. Don't convince yourself they were something else right now."

"You know," I said. "For a religious man..."

Michael shrugged. "Some things are more important at the moment. I think God will forgive us."

I glanced at Matthew. He was focused on Michael. Right. His own family was Christian, wasn't it.

Then again, so was most of America.

Ah, nothing like being a religious minority.

Mrs. Brigfield sat down. "Glad you're awake honey. We have tests to complete."

I nodded, then grimaced, feeling dizzy.

"See? I told you not to!" She scribbled on the clipboard. "Now. We're starting with the mental portion, since it takes the longest."

It was a series of questions, at first. I answered in short replies, bored after the second question.

"_¿Está seguro?" Are you sure?_

I blinked in surprise. Without thinking, I answered, _"__Si.__"_ _Yes._

She smiled, then pointed to her clipboard. "Just making sure you're paying attention. Now we're going to look at a series of drawings and shapes..."

I told her about the things on her clipboard. Each one usually had a few choices of words to match it with, and the hand to raise to point to it.

We did the mental stuff for an hour.

"The second part of this is the physical tests and exams. For that, it's off to a room!" She unfolded a wheelchair, where it had sat lonely the last few days.

It didn't look like a hospital wheelchair. It had a lower back, no blue fabric, and the wheels seemed more reenforced. The entire thing seemed stiffer built, hardier.

She carefully looked over everything attached to me.

"Let's see... Oh, the blood's not needed at all now. It slowed to a stop...Not this either...Or..." She looked at her clipboard. "We could just take all of these off! Right! Hold on, honey. This might hurt."

I closed my eyes and looked away.

"Relax! Breath...Think of clouds."

I gulped, but did as she asked.

Having an IV removed is something I never want repeated. It's odd, your stomach turns, and if you're me, images of needles completely fill your thoughts.

Later, I found IVs are only tubes in your skin.

It was probably a good thing that I found that out later, because that's even worse.

"Done!" She wrapped gauze around my arm. "Now...Can I have a hand?" she called. The Singing Nurse appeared at her side.

"We're taking her off to the physical tests, so don't jolt anything."

It's weird, to see your legs and not be able to feel them. It's even weirder to see someone pick you up by your calves and arms and not feel their hands on your legs.

I was set in the wheelchair, Mrs. Brigfield stapped my legs in place gently and then began to the nudge the wheelchair down the hall.

"If these tests work out, you can get yourself in and out of these things on your own. It won't be easy to adjust, but you'll learn."

The exam room just looked a doctor examination room. A female doctor was there, organizing a few things.

Apparently, not only must all hospital nurses be female, all the doctors must be as well.

That bit of sarcasm went out the window as a male nurse squeezed past us. He nearly bumped the wheelchair and gave me an apologetic smile.

"Hello! Is this Maggie?"

I grinned.

She crouched. "I'm Dr. Whitman. Nurse Brigfield and I are going to do a few tests. Is that okay?"

I nodded slowly, minding my head. "Yes ma'am!"

Brigfield nudged me into the room and shut the door. Dr. Whitman slid her hands under my armpits and picked me up, setting me on the exam table. I grabbed the edge, holding myself upright. When my muscles finally picked up, I let go.

"Hmm..." Twin scribbling.

The tests began. They focused on things that didn't make sense to me, checking reflexes.

"That bit done. Now..."

Next just seemed to be all about asking me to stretch. And then onward...

Half an hour later, they scribbled on their clipboards, compared notes, babbled doctor speech and smiled.

"Look's good, honey! Let's just check that eye..."

As Mrs. Brigfield pulled something off, I realized I hadn't even noticed my depth perception problem.

She was holding a section of gauze, medical tape, and a medical eye patch. It was like a smaller surgeon mask.

"Oh. My my."

"We'll watch that overnight. Make sure it doesn't get infected."

Curious, I reached up, but Mrs. Brigfield grabbed my wrist gently. Now I understood depth problems. The hand hadn't seemed close enough, and now it was there.

"Don't do that. Eyes only have eyelashes to keep out dirt and germs."

Then she got new gauze and tape.

Reapply...

"You want to get into the chair yourself?"

"That's a bit..." Dr. Whitman started.

I looked down. I'd have to be careful. Distance wasn't the same anymore.

"How tall are you?" I asked.

"Five-foot-four."

5'4... So if the wheelchair back came up a little past her knee, and the exam table to her waist...

Carefully, I lowered myself. My legs slid into the chair and the rest of me followed. I straightened my legs, did the straps and smiled up at Mrs. Brigfield. "I did it!"

"Right! So you know how to push yourself?"

"Uh..."

Three minutes and nearly tipping over everything in the exam room later, Dr. Whitman opened the door. I pushed myself out.

'Smooth movements. Don't get choppy,' I told myself.

I nearly went right by Dresden before I looked up.

His head was really far up there. Dang...

"Hi!"

"Hey."

"I get to leave soon!"

"Tomorrow morning, hopefully. We just have to make sure that eye doesn't get infected."

Shock from the crowd.

"Wow."

I turned to Michael. "What?"

"It's like magic," he said. There were smiles abounding.

"Bye Maggie!" Matthew called from down the hall. His mother had a gentle on his right arm, the uninjured one. "See you in school!"

Miss Abbott gave the adults around me a weary look, her hair streaked with gray.

Rogue peeked from Dresden's coat collar and mewled loudly. Her blue gazed around the hallway like she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing, and we all had to smile.

The elevator dinged.

"Now now! No blocking the hall! Back to the ward, Maggie!"

"Yes Mrs. Brigfield." I obediently wheeled myself down the hall. The parade followed.

The hallway seemed longer now I had to get there on my own power. My arms were getting tired, but I pretended I was fine and managed to turn into the ward.

I'd made it all the way down a hospital hallway without crashing into anyone. I felt accomplished.

The ward was being wrecked. A kid, maybe ten, screamed and shouted, throwing things everywhere. Mrs. Brigfield sighed.

"Jimmy! Jimmy! No!"

The kid stopped.

"Sit down!"

He looked shocked.

"Now."

"Or what? What'cha gonna do, huh? I'll-"

"I do have tranquilizers, Jimmy. Since you are a danger to yourself and others, I am authorized to use them. There is nothing your parents can do about that."

"They'll sue-"

"And be beat in court. Quit being a brat. Sit. I'll have to put those IVs in again." She sighed. "And you were so calm."

Jimmy had a cast on his arm, but he looked absolutely fine otherwise. So rich parents are _so__worried!_ About their darling that he has to stay in the hospital. He tears it up.

"What's wrong with him? The nurse try to feed him with a steel spoon instead of silver? The temperature not exactly 68.9 degrees?"

Mrs. Brigfield shot me a look.

I wheeled myself forward, nearly tipping over. Things were everywhere.

Carefully, I nudged forward, wheeling around things and items when I could figure out they were in front of me.

"What? She scared that the IV stands will beat her over the head? She scared of tripping over something with her dainty little wheelchair?"

"Jimmy! Shut up! What you did here is create a minefield for someone with no depth perception. Now pick everything up, and don't get snarky about it."

He smirked, but began picking things up, slamming them into place. He even tried moving things deliberately in my way-

-Until Mrs. Brigfield left and came back with a tranq gun.

The room went silent. It wasn't a big gun, there wasn't anything special about it. But it was a tranquilizer gun being carried by a small brunette British woman.

Jimmy's snark act ended. He blanched and quickly picked up everything, scrabbling to get himself back into his bed. I wheeled over to mine, looked at it as I unstrapped my legs, and though my arms ached I pulled myself into it. Then I gave Jimmy a haunty look.

Mrs. Brigfield slung the gun over her shoulder (It was on a strap) and stalked over to his bed. Reinserting the IVs, she set up a drip on one then came over to me.

"Don't entice him," she hissed. "He's got anger issues and he's a brat. Okay?"

I nodded, gulping.

Murphy took this moment to enter.

"...Wow. Wasn't expecting that."

Mrs. Brigfield stole my haunty look and reapplied it, after improvements.

"What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"

"Meaning you don't tend to see nurses with guns."

"It's only tranq," she sniffed. "For unruly children."

"Bit extreme, you know."

"You have no idea what I've had to use this for."

I looked back and forth between them.

"So...You're related, right?"

They looked at me and both exited the room.

Dresden crouched by the bed. "Maggie, have you ever seen the Murphy family reunion?"

"No?"

"It's a small army. Following that, everyone's a Murphy, no matter how distantly."

There was the sounds of a punch fight out in the hallway. Then arguing. Then punching. Then someone calling out bets. Then Murphy and Mrs. Brigfield entered the room, arms thrown over each other's shoulders. We stared.

"I was right?" I muttered.

"Meet one of my numerous relatives," Murphy said. "Her mother married into the family line. They've just lived in Europe her entire life."

"I was right!" I repeated.

"Yes you are, honey. But don't introduce me to my relatives again. I can only take being punched so often."

I did my best not to snicker.

"So let's get this straight. Your mother married a Murphy. Then you grew up somewhere in Europe."

"Yes, Mr. Dresden. Is this important?"

The tranq gun was still slung over her shoulder as she looked at a clipboard and then gave a kid a pill and a glass of water.

"Yeah. You are you called Brigfield?"

"Mrs. I was married."

"Oh. Um..."

"Five weeks. Then I divorced him, since he apparently had trouble staying faithful. Six in less than two weeks!"

"Six what?" I asked.

"Nothing! Lie down."

She kept herself busy with things around the ward, and the gun stayed slung over her shoulder.

"...See you tomorrow," Dresden finally said. He stretched and left. The rest of the crew followed. I counted them off. Dresden, Murphy, Michael, Charity, Rogue.

Once they were gone, I lay back, trying to think. Something beautiful...

Beautiful...

The word rolled around my head a moment.

Beauty was healing. No scar or injury was permanent. Eventually, everything would heal...

* * *

Well, Maggie, things may heal, but it may not be perfect.

And in the next chapter:

_Scar had a gun. Not a big one. A small one, but a small gun and lots of ammo._  
_He aimed at them._  
_The gun fired_  
_Forty_  
_Three_  
_Times._  
_I counted._

Stay tuned in! And review!


	4. Trust

__He-llo, readers! Welcome to our next Dresden chapter! I must report that this chapter, again, has disturbing material. Also, we find out about those kittens.

* * *

_Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none._

_~William Shakespeare_

_Believe that life is worth living and your belief will help create the fact._

_~William James_

* * *

Elaine was standing in front of my apartment.

Let me say that again, for emphasis.

_Elaine_ was standing _in __front_ of _my_ apartment.

I drew into the parking lot and stopped, Rogue scooting across my dashboard at the sudden motion. Elaine walked up to the car. I started to open the door.

"Hey Harry. So where's the miracle kid from the newspapers?"

"Maggie," I corrected. "Idiot miracle that she is. She's in the care of Mr. and Mrs. Michael Carpenter."

She nodded, eyes drawn to Rogue. There was a momentary silence. "You got a new apartment."

"Yep. Old one burned down."

"That sucks."

"Yep."

I was still sitting in the driver's seat, feet resting on the gravel parking lot. Elaine was standing, leaning against the door. Rather than look at her, I watched her shoes. There was a bit of a wide stance, the shoes without heels and made of what looked like dark blue canvas, a white star at the center of the inside and outside sides of the shoes. Converse. Those things will be popular till the end of time.

The silence grew, heavily pregnant. When it would have been apparent to any watcher, I sighed.

"Why are you here, Elaine?"

"The kid, the vampire. Reasons."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "No interviews, please. I'm having a hard enough time keeping CNN away." My wit was jumping off the deep end today.

More silence.

"You wondering, aren't you," I stated flatly.

Her feet shifted, jeans flaring ever so slightly with the movement. It drew my eye to those wonderful calves. I yanked them down.

"You're wondering where and how I had a kid," I expanded.

Her weight shifted again, gravel crunching.

Rogue jumped to my shoulder, missed her landing and slid down my arm to my lap in a ball of mewling brown fur. I picked her up, standing.

"Why don't you come in. It's a long story."

Still avoiding looking at each other, I led the way down the narrow stairs to the door. The day I moved in, Murphy and I installed a burglar door, like my old one except without the problem that came with opening it. Murphy was a successfully better carpenter than me.

I dealt with my wards, adding a sparkle effect for Rogue (She went wild, batting after what was pretty much mini fireworks) and shoved the door open. Better installed doesn't mean it wasn't heavy.

Elaine looked at the square of carpet surrounding the door and winced. The color assaulted our eyes, like it did every day.

"Didn't do the carpet," I said in defense.

That minimal bit of speech followed us across a rug of some singer's face, a shag rug of a golden retriever, the woven carpet of Mister one of Michael's kids had done, (Those kids can do anything, seriously) and the mismatched patterned rugs to the fireplace. I lit it with a word, watching the tiny flame flare up, the wood catching, before I put the fire-grate over it. Then I turned my back to it, shrugging out of my duster.

"Well?" Elaine asked.

I tried to think of where to begin. The problem was that there wasn't a clear-cut beginning.

"Who's the mother?"

That would do.

"Susan Rodriguez."

"The kid?"

"Margaret Angelica Rodriguez, age nine."

"Margaret Angeli..."

"I didn't name her. Didn't know she was alive at all until two years back. Didn't know Susan had ever gotten pregnant..."

"Did she know about you?"

"No. She barely knew her own mother. Susan..."

Here's where I started. I explained her vampire problem, the reasons she told me, when I found out and what happened. The story slipped out, I couldn't edit it before I spoke. It took a good few hours. We watched Rogue adventure around the room the entire time, until she collapsed, a tiny exhausted kitten, on the couch.

The silence was deep. Emotion swirled around in me, making my stomach turn, and I looked down at my hands, trying to concentrate.

Big mistake. They were shaking, and in my mind, I could see them coated red, blood dripping onto a temple floor...

I dashed to the kitchen sink, across the room.

I'd spent the last few months living on ramen. Neither Wardens nor Winter Knights get paid much, since Wardens are still usually not city dwellers in the Council's mind and Winter Knights work for fay, who have a different ideas, generally, of payment and how much money is worth. Between them both, I had enough to live on, but since I was buying magical ingredients, considering rebuilding (and saving for) Little Chicago, now had a kitten, my landlady said if I got a roommate/housemate/any living human she'd raise the rent, and it was currently late fall and basement apartments can get damn cold during the colder seasons and I have to buy wood, I'd had to be cheap somewhere.

Right now, I was watching my meal of the day slowly drain, while several noodles lay sullenly in the basin.

An arm reached over, turning on the water and rinsing the mess away. Then it slipped a paper towel briefly under the spray and wiped it over my face. I nodded, throat burning.

"Thanks."

"...No problem. I guess... That got to you."

Not really in a mood for words, I nodded again, closing my eyes.

"Recurring nightmare now?"

I didn't even have to nod to answer that one. I shifted my stance, turning my head in a direction that did not face a female. I was pretty sure my eyes were misting, and I had pride.

"So how did Maggie get here?"

I walked a few steps to the fridge, lugging out a container of kitten formula I'd mixed up yesterday. Elaine handed me a small saucepan. I set them both on the stove as she lit the fire.

Rogue knew what that meant already. No longer tired, her ears pricked and she pounced on an invisible mouse, chasing it across the carpet before coming to sit at my side.

Then she barked.

I kid you not, a kitten looked at me and managed to work her vocal cords in a sound that wasn't a mewl, but a bark.

Elaine helped me stare.

"Wonder what Mouse has been teaching her." Not that she'd met Mouse.

"Reminds me of Ginger..."

"Ginger?"

"Neighbor. Her cat got raised by a dog. Thing could bark, chased squirrels and cars. Then one day it realized it was a cat. Got nasty after that."

Since the bark didn't get her food, she tried a new tactic. She mewled piteously, pawing my leg.

"Alright!" I said. "Hold on."

The small amount of formula at the bottom of saucepan warmed, and I took it off the fire, putting it in a small bottle I'd gotten that was apparently just for puppy and kitten feeding.

It was a repackaged doll bottle with a higher price.

Picking up Rogue by her scruff, she settled on my arm, then my hand, siting on her hind legs in an effort to reach her food.

"Harry Dresden. Professional kitten feeder," Elaine said, voice filled with amusement, and even a little High-School-Girl fanism.

Rogue grabbed the bottle in her front paws, just like yesterday.

"Don't laugh," I said. "She'll fall over."

Rogue, like most cats, knew she was being talked about. She purred as I lowered the bottle, making her settle on four paws again. It looked a bit like she was in a tug-o-war with the bottle, legs braced and crouching.

"She's so cute...Where'd you find her?"

"Alleyway. Her name's Rogue by the way."

I thought a blood vessel was going to burst. She fawned over her.

"What is with everyone and baby animals?" I muttered.

"They're adorable and tiny, and you're a giant. It makes you look soft-hearted. It's like seeing a biker, with a teacup poodle sitting in his sidecar. You're so adorable. Just look at you! Yes you are!"

If I had a free hand, I would have clapped it to my face. Tip for men. Don't use kittens to get a girl's attention. They spend all their time with the kitten and ignore you.

"Don't bother. She'll turn out more vain than Mister. I'll be lucky she'll even let me have a corner to sleep in."

"Oh come on! That's exaggerating!"

"I rescued Mister, and he kindly let me live in the same house as him in return. And now you're spoiling Rogue."

"Oh come on!" she started, eyes still on the nursing kitten. "It's not like-"

"How many pets have you had?"

Silence.

At this point, Silence was going to work itself into the grave, if birth didn't do it in.

"Okay, okay." She picked up Rogue, who had stopped feeding. "But you're still adorable!"

"I'd let you keep her, but Maggie'd probably some way of punching me in the face for it."

"So how'd you get that bruise?"

"Charity floored me." I rubbed the cheek gently. "Two days back. She's got a strong right."

Elaine looked impressed. "I want to meet this woman."

There was a knock at the door.

"Watch," I said. "It'll be Molly."

I opened it. Molly was there, holding a backpack and looking a little teary. I was then grabbed in a hug as she sobbed into my chest.

"...Okay, what happened?"

"He said I should...And then...It's not fair!"

I, very carefully, tried to pry her off me.

"Molly, I can't understand female-speech. Translate, please. And...Let go."

She did so, stepping in and then viciously slamming the front door. Elaine once again joined me, this time in shock.

"Calm down before you hurt someone."

I didn't think she was listening, so I moved my hand in a half circle, collecting her building power. Not as easy as it would have once been.

My head buzzed. _Very_ not as easy.

"Should I just dump something on her head?"

"Tempting as it is? This is a time I'd have to tell you no." I turned back to the stove, set on a kettle and opened a cabinet. What sort of wizard would I be without tea to go with the coffee?

The box of chamomile was a strange yellow-orange, almost obnoxious. But it's tea, so of course it _can__'__t_ be. The sellers however...

Teabag in cup, the water boiled while Molly continued muttering small things to herself, occasionally causing small magical reactions. Elaine put out three pinprick fires, waved away two illusions of monsters, and I turned around to help her deal with something that was small, with seven tentacles and two noses. I was pretty sure it was an illusion, again, but better to be safe than sorry, especially where my carpets are concerned.

Then I handed Molly the tea.

"Be a good former apprentice. Sit." I pointed to the fireplace. Molly gave me a glare.

"No."

I raised an eyebrow, looking down at her. Her eyebrow ring twitched and sank, her face glowering as she shuffled to do as I said.

Elaine had raised eyebrows, asking for an explanation.

"She's still got defiance issues. It's also been a tough two years."

A curt nod, then she sat next to her. I sat in front of both of them on my knees, Rogue playing between us.

"So what happened?"

Molly drank some of the tea, ignoring the bland taste.

"It's my boyfriend," she said. Elaine clapped a hand over her eyes.

"He just realized...You know. And now he wants me to get rid of it! And..." she looked down at the cup. "And he's been bossing me around-"

"I thought you said he was a good friend," I interrupted.

"Well, he was. I mean, I just haven't noticed until now. He tells me I should do this, I can't do that, he thinks the wizard thing is a joke and calls me a kid. I mean, last week he said I'm too childish to survive without a man to lean on. He said it was a joke, but it stung."

I nodded slowly. "You have permission to set his nuts on fire."

The side of her mouth twisted up in a smile.

"And just yesterday..." She drank another mouthful. Then glanced at Elaine. Pregnant wizards are apparently wary of everything. I nodded. "Just _yesterday_, he realized I was pregnant. Yesterday night. Didn't speak a word to me till he blew up today. He said I should get rid of it. I told him last month and he didn't seem to care. He said he thought I was just trying to play with him, to get some place to sleep for a while. Can you believe it-" She looked at me and fired a spell in my face.

I'd been angry, my new usual style of angry. My insides iced over and my thoughts categorized her information into neat places while planning what I could do to find him, how I could attack him with least evidence and where I could dispose of him. I had three different plans, and any of them could have worked. If this had happened earlier in my life, I'd have been horrified at myself.

Even Elaine looked a little shaky as I untangled myself from the spell. It was a web of magic, something I'd never been at the end of. I wondered when she came up with it as I mentally removed it. Then I calmly stood, walked into the bathroom and turned on my shower.

Icy cold water soaked my head, I gasped, and the anger shattered, melting away. Then I really was a little scared, looking at those plans that at any moment, I might have decided to do. Rogue bounded up to the water, looking at it like it was a new toy and batting at it, before hissing at the temperature. I smiled at the distraction, turning off the water and picking her up.

Water streamed down my neck and back, cold trails that left me chattering. Placing a hand against the wall to anchor myself, I shook my head like a dog.

Water flew everywhere. When I stopped, the mirror over the sink looked like I'd poured water down over it. I picked up a towel, wrapping it over my shoulders and walked back to the women by the fire.

They were still creeped. Molly would probably murder me out of defense if I got within arms distance, and Elaine was a little shaken. So I leaned against the doorway, petting Rogue.

Eventually, Molly let out a shaky breath. "And that, is the new patented Dresden anger. Comes guaranteed to freeze your guts in ten seconds flat." She tried a grin.

Elaine said nothing, but watched me with wary eyes. I watched the Mister rug.

Rogue, however, didn't give a damn about social interactions unless they were about her. She jumped out of my hands, landed on a rug, and raced for the trapdoor. On the way, she took a detour to tip the teacup over, jumped up and reached out to claw a shelf free of several books and then finally stopped, feet planted on it. She tilted her head, ear seeming to be listening to something. She mewled.

We just stared at her thirty second mess.

"...Invisible mice?" Molly offered.

"Sure," I said.

Then I took the towel off my shoulders and started getting chamomile tea out of my carpet.

Then she mewled again. This one sounded more desperate.

"The litter box is right next to you!" I snapped. Elaine started picking up the books.

A third, like she'd been struck.

"I thought kitten eyes were supposed to be blue."

"They..." I looked at Rogue. Her eyes had turned deep emerald green. "Are. Someone open the trapdoor."

Molly threw it open. Rogue jumped down, yowling something in cat. We followed.

Straight into a vision.

A horrifying one.

Cats in cages lined the walls. Some were labeled as toms, the others unmarked. The females were in states of pregnancy or nursing, and the sounds of the animals swamped our ears. There was even the scent, of all those unclean cages and animals and the dead.

Rogue stood in the center of the room, calling to one of the cages. An identical kitten popped up, a little older than her, old enough her eyes had turned that shocking green shade.

We stepped off the real ladder, and it disappeared behind us, not part of the vision. A man stood in the room. He muttered things to himself, looking at a clipboard and then picking up cages to put in the room center or tossing toms into certain cages or taking them out.

He turned. A thirty year old man with fine, model features, dark hair and pale eyes stared right through us. He could have gotten an acting job, looking like he did. But a scar marred it. A thick, ugly one, jagged, going from his temple, across a cheekbone, cutting across his lips and ending on his chin on the other side of his face.

He stomped to the ladder, kicking a cage as he went. He passed through Rogue, though the other cats seemed to notice her, and went right by the three of us. Jerking down the ladder, he called up, "Get down here, lazy bitch!"

A young woman, hesitantly, climbed down.

"What's wrong with em?"

She shrugged, examining the floor.

"They won't shut up! Make em! Or someone will find out!"

She nodded.

"P-Pl-Please, s-sir," she started. "Y-Y-You-You'll have t-t-t-to l-leave."

He glared. "No funny business."

Then he stomped up.

Molly, now feeling ill, leaned against me, holding my sleeve.

The young woman turned to look at us.

"W-Who ar-are you?"

Elaine looked downright shocked.

"We come in peace?" I asked. Two people slapped me upside the head.

The woman, wearing a white men's button-up tucked into slacks, both completely unstained despite her environment, I noticed, blinked in shock and backed up a step.

"What year is it?" I asked.

"Nineteen-ninety-five," she stuttered. So it sounded more like "N-n-n-nine-ninet-nineteen-n-n-ninety-f-f-five."

"Wow," I muttered. "How long has it been since then?"

"At least fifteen years," Elaine said, crossing her arms.

"W-ho are you?"

"People from the future. We stepped into a magical vision. Something apparently wanted us to see this," Molly said.

I tried not to think about the whole "Swim against time" law. Unless this was a time loop...

Goddamn, what if it was? It was like every B-rated movie I'd ever have the misfortune to ruin.

The woman put a hand against a cage, muttering to it softly. The female started to calm, licking her litter into silence.

"So what is this?" I asked.

"M-M-My boss-s." She could stutter on ending letters. Now that's dedication. "H-He b-breeds purebred c-cats. Th-They aren't tr-treated w-well here, b-but they g-go, go to good-good homes."

I could vaguely see Bob, through the vision. His eyes flared brightly, fighting to end it. While Button-Up was distracted, I made a "no" signal with my hand. His eyes darkened in response.

"S-So, um, w-what's y-y-your nam-names?"

Molly opened her mouth, but I shook my head. "We can't tell you." Her eyes brightened. "It's a rule of magic."

If we told her, and this vision actually had a connection of some sort to the time it happened, that could change things, drastically. I've never met this woman. I'd remember meeting this woman. She was a bit distinctive. Her hair was a natural shade of chestnut, but a few slim scars, shaped like the letters KM, were imprinted in her cheek. Small things could cause huge changes.

"But can I tell you mine?" she asked. I noted she didn't stutter then, just seemed shy.

I shrugged.

"Kylie M-MacAnally."

Molly and I backed up a step, just out of shock.

"W-Wh-What?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. It's not important."

"Lazy bitch! Those animals haven't shut up!"

She hissed in frustration and the cat promptly shut up.

I twisted to look around-

And saw something that tore me to shreds.

Mister. Mister, as a kitten, sitting in the same cage as Rogue's double, giving me that familiar look. He waved a long tail, purred at me and rammed his shoulder against the cage, like he'd always done to my legs in greeting.

Now I saw where he got the idea. Kylie braced her hands gently against the cage, making hushing sounds, before easing open the door to pet him.

What I'd always thought was his attempts to tip me over was actually him giving complete and total trust. Trusting someone to catch the cage before it fell.

"M-My bo-boss just lets her t-ti-tip it over."

I knew I'd have explaining to do later, but I reached over, wrapping my arms around Elaine's shoulders and started to cry.

In both the vision and reality, time moved on. Kylie stuttered and whispered and petted the cats, and I sobbed over Mister. Silently, mind you.

The second they were calm and silent, she nodded to us sadly and slipped up the steps.

We followed.

The vision went with us.

It had stone floors, no furniture. The doors were both open, one another room, completely of kittens, the second a bedroom.

A bedroom outfitted for two people with one bed. The room I was currently using as a storage room.

I pointed to it. Molly nodded in understanding.

Noted, we watched the next vision unfold.

Kylie was bowing to the orders of our man, when sirens broke the air. Her hands were clutched to her chest.

No, wait. She was unbuttoning her shirt. The shirt was the same stainless white, but the buttons were slightly different.

They both stared at the door, holding their breath. The sirens faded.

The man let out a breath. "Too close. Get the cats. Bring em up."

"B-Bu-But-"

"Now, whore!"

She scrabbled to the door, shooting us a tearful glance.

We stood in the corner near the bedroom door, watching her drag up cages and open them, setting the open ones over the barricade keeping the kittens in.

I watched her pick up Mister.

"Be a good girl, Missy," she whispered.

Girl? Mister was a...

I was struck by a memory of Mister's first vet trip. He'd only ever had three.

"_Now, um, you said that Mister..." He had an odd time wrapping his lips around that word. "Was found in a garbage can..."_

_I nodded. _

"_Well, 'e seems to already be spayed..."_

"_Huh?"_

"_Neutered? Can't breed?"_

_I made an "oh" face._

And now I remembered that handy-dandy cat pamphlet I'd breezed over. Spayed was the term used for female animals...

I felt like an idiot.

Then Mister was set back down, left alone to shoulder-block against the barricade as Kylie lugged up more cages, putting all the cats in the room. There were probably about eighty or so.

Scar had a gun. Not a big one. A small one, but a small gun and lots of ammo.

He aimed at the cats.

The gun fired

Forty

Three

Times.

I counted.

Kylie begged the entire time. I just watched, having walked to stand by the fireplace. I had a clear view as each shot fired. I felt numb. I wasn't crying, but Molly was, Elaine clenching her jaw. Red sprays. Dying cries. I turned away at the forty-forth shot, eyes closed and fist clenched.

The shot fired, but no dying cry. Just one of pain. I peeked at the sight of Mister, part of her tail shot clean off.

Kylie had grabbed the gun, causing the misfire.

"Let go, Kylie."

"N-No! Y-You can't! Stop!"

"They're evidence. We'll get arrested."

"You WON'T!"

She lunged into him, dragging him to the ground, fingers holding the safety in place.

We felt the magic building, then it set to work. Scar froze, eyes blank as she took the gun from his now weak fingers and pulled the trigger. It barked three times.

Then it fell from her fingers. Reaching over, she yanked the barricade away, letting the cats free to roam and dashed to open the door.

She paused and looked at us.

"I know what I did. I broke a law of magic and killed a man with a gun. But I'm not sorry."

We heard her feet on the steps as the cats began to run free. Mister stopped to try to shoulderblock our legs. Mine were the only ones that appeared solid. She purred at us, then joined her peers in running.

That was a younger Mister. I don't know what happened in the weeks between this incident and Mister finding me, but...

But I'm sure it must have been interesting.

Sorry, I've been sappy too much today.

We looked at the room.

Real Rogue sat by vision Rogue, dying on the floor. Her green eyes focused on me, then clouded.

The vision ended, simply gone. We were back in my apartment, Rogue looked dead tired.

Silently, I picked up Rogue, Molly got her bag, we all put on our coats and ran out of the apartment.

I remembered to lock the front door, but other than that, we were a good few blocks away before we slowed.

We walked down the sidewalk, alert. I put Rogue in my pocket, where she passed out.

"That..." I whispered, "was the most horrifying...Disturbing...Thing..."

We shied away from the thought.

"So..." Elaine started. "You thought Mister was a guy?"

I waved my hands, while helplessly muttering "Well, I..."

"You're oblivious?"

"I was."

"I'm ashamed."

I examined the sidewalk for grass, embarrassed.

A sleek car drove up and slowed.

"What are you guys doing?"

We turned to Murphy, looking at us from her driver's seat.

"Got any spare rooms?" I glanced back at the general direction of my apartment. "We...Just had an experience."

"Hey, she's with the police, right?" Elaine asked. I tried to stop her. "Can you dig up anything on a Kylie MacAnally?"

"I got fired two years back," Murphy said flatly. "Private detective now."

"Can you still use a computer though?"

"Yes."

"Good, cause none of us can."

She opened the door of her car and stepped out. Then she stretched, rolled her neck and opened the back door. "Get in. Let's go back to the office."

On the ride there, we were silent and cramped, but nobody wanted to speak and there was no room.

Elaine raised her eyebrows again at the building.

"This is where-"

"I lived before it burned to the ground? Yeah."

"And then the next day he died. It was an interesting week, that one," Molly commented.

Elaine tripped. "He _died?_"

"I got better!" I complained in my best British villager accent.

Cracked smiles.

Murphy led us in, past a guard that I was pretty sure was one of the Paranet. He nodded.

"Back already, Murphy, ma'am?"

She nodded. "It's apparently important, but they won't tell me why."

"If you follow, you might get a good story," I said. "As long as you like disturbing and creepy."

He stood up. "I'm coming." Then he lurched past, locking the door behind us for show.

We all made our way upstairs. Outside Murphy's office, we sat and Murphy went in. She left the door open.

I was appointed storyteller with a glance. While Murphy typed away at a computer I was surprised that still run, despite how many magically inclined must work in this building for the Chicago Alliance, I began to tell what happened. I left out Molly's tale, and started with Rogue running around. Kylie's name was omitted, for Mac's privacy. If they really were related, I wasn't going to start rumors about him. But, since they looked a little more horrified with each word, I left in the Mister confusion.

By the time I was done, I could barely force the words out and Murphy was weeping over her keyboard. I pretended not to notice.

Murder had happened in my apartment. Murder and abuse and animal cruelty.

I pulled Rogue, still asleep out of my pocket and set her on the carpet.

"So this is Rogue," he said wonderingly. Carefully, he reached out to pet an ear, nails gently scraping over her fur.

Murphy printed something out. The printer stuttered and stopped and sounded in need of repair, but it finished the job. She handed us the sheets with still hands and pink eyes.

"Let's go," she whispered. "I have spare rooms."

A quiet line of us followed Murphy to her car. She drove to her house.

The house wasn't a Karrin Murphy styled house. It had a flower garden. There were lace doilies over the furniture inside. The furniture looked soft and old enough to complain about weight from advancing age. It looked like the house of someone's grandmother.

Because it was. It belonged to Murphy's grandmother. It was a bit adorable, a bit old, and all around a home, with a thick threshold to match. We didn't really notice this, however, as we stumbled in, found our way to rooms and collapsed on beds.

That was at three.

Around seven, I woke up, left a note and borrowed Murphy's car, driving back to my apartment, with a quick stop.

I walked to the backyard, looking down at a small grave. Marked only with a small circle of stones, you wouldn't really notice it in the untrimmed grass of the yard, unless you knew what you were looking for.

I knelt, sitting on my heels, hands on my thighs, and meditated.

Mister had been a braver cat than I thought, more forgiving than I thought. She'd been willing to live in a basement apartment when her litter and mother had been shot in one. She'd been called a male her entire life and put up with it. She'd seen me armed with guns, bullets, and hadn't turned tail or attacked me.

She'd stayed.

She'd trusted.

Animal psychics, some of them, say that if you meditate by an animal, some of the images you receive will be from them.

The same applies to their graves.

I saw things. Me, others, from new angles, with feelings attached. Happiness, joy, disdain, fear, calm, sadness.

I sat there for an hour, sorting and seeing, then stood, setting my offering at the head of the grave. It was a tag, shaped like a heart. Mister had never worn one. She'd never taken to the one I'd tried to make her wear.

I had a new idea why.

_Missy_

_17_

_Courageous_

They were memorial tags, for those who wanted to be constantly reminded of their pet. You could get their name, age and a single word about them, machine engraved. Maybe Toot's magic charm applied to pet shop machines. It never seemed to know I was there.

Love was trusting others, even if they didn't give anything in return for it.

* * *

Okay, yes, I made Mister a she. I did that for a friend. As for the Kylie thing, that wrote itself in, I stopped and looked and said, "Oh my fucking god." but I couldn't delete it because it had so many delicious plot ideas attached to it...

Review! The more reviews, the better!


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